For The Children
by But a Chance
Summary: A week of difficult cases leaves the entire staff questioning why?


Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the CSI characters.

This is the next story for the songfic challenge found on the CSIfiles site. The song was: "The Eleventh Commandent" performed by Colin Raye.

**The Eleventh Commandment**  
Written by Karen Taylor-Good & Lisa Aschmann  
As performed by Collin Raye

She hears his heavy breathing in the dark  
His footsteps coming closer down the hall  
She's so ashamed, she's daddy's secret love  
She wants to cry, she wants to die, but he can't get enough

The bruises on his face will go away  
Mom keeps him home from school till they fade  
She's sorry he was born and tells him so  
He takes it in, he hangs his chin, he ducks another blow

Did God overlook it  
What ought have been written  
The eleventh commandment  
Honor thy children

He cries for hours, cries and never stops  
He shakes so hard his little cradle rocks  
He'll never have the chance to be brand new  
He'll never walk, he'll never talk, he's addicted too

Did God overlook it  
What ought have been written  
The eleventh commandment  
Honor thy children

Thou shalt not kill  
Thou shalt not steal  
Thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain  
Thou shalt not cause thy children pain

God does not overlook it  
What ought have been written  
The eleventh commandment  
Honor thy children

**For the Children**

The oppressive heat of Las Vegas sweltered outside on this bleak August evening. Seven enervated souls sat around the conference room table of the LVPD Forensic Lab. Much like the weather, the past two weeks were hell for the seven, the doubles and triples kept adding up, and the horrific cases kept coming. Cases involving adults were bad enough, but any involving children put the shift on edge….four in less than a week was staggering.

The CSI's boiling point was reached, the anger and dispiritedness at the atrocities honed on the innocent was overwhelming and consuming. The poor excuses for human beings who committed these acts were no where to be found, and the evidence sought…limited. The group grew anxious for any arrest…or a little street justice…which ever came first.

Catherine, as shift Supervisor, had the daunting task of reviewing all open cases. She oversaw new evidence, interpreted the case at hand, established directives, and opened the floor to discussion and insight. Four cases lay atop the stack, cases demanding solutions. She picked up the first case file: Caucasian infant female, Baby Jane Doe, abandoned in a condemned warehouse. Cause of Death: dehydration due to extreme heat.

"Greg, Ray, what do you have on your female Baby Jane Doe?" Catherine asked.

Greg, as lead on the case, explained he and Ray had no new leads, but they were searching for any known pregnant females in the area, and returning to the evidence gathered at the scene. "Doc Robins determined the infant was a new born, a portion of the umbilical cord was still attached, and there was no sign of further abuse. No shaken baby syndrome, cuts and bruises, or sexual abuse." Greg replied with a sense of anger tinting his voice.

Al Robbins interjected his thoughts on the case. "Taking into account the temperature variables, this child was less than 48 hours old. In my opinion, this isn't a malicious killing, the evidence doesn't support it. I think we're looking at an abandonment case, if it's like most of these cases the suspect is probably a young girl."

"She's still culpable. I don't care how young, stupid, or the circumstances, you don't leave a baby in an abandoned warehouse in 120 degree heat." Brass disgustedly replied.

Nick sarcastically laughed: "You're all assuming she's young and stupid. Maybe she's just another crack whore who forgot where she left her baby after her last fix. Shit for all we know, she's out there wandering around trying to find her kid. That's the APB you should put out Jim….Paunchy female crack addict wandering around aimlessly, baby blanket in one hand, crack pipe in the other. The paunchy crack addict will be the dead giveaway."

All eyes in the room turned to the eternally optimistic Stokes, a sense of disbelief written on their faces. No one gave an immediate reply. Greg was the first to recover from the shock of Nick's negativity, and dispelled the crack-whore notion. "Trace did a tox screen on the infant, no drugs were found in the baby's system."

"Well glory fuckin be. The baby wasn't tossed away by a crack whore, just an idiot." Nick replied with disgust. Everyone chose to ignore Nick's comments, but Catherine directed a pointed glare in Nick's direction.

Supervisor Willow's commended Greg and Ray on their diligent work, but suggested they talk to units in the area. Catherine wearily picked up the next file and shook her head. Given the direction of the last discussion, crack baby was not the case she wanted to address, but nonetheless it was next in line.

"Riley, update us on your case." Catherine cautiously queried.

Thankfully, Riley read Catherine's apprehension, and treaded lightly when explaining her case, she left out certain details. "Unfortunately, it's another negligence case. I'm waiting for trace analysis to come back, but we should be able to secure a warrant with the evidence. Detective's are watching the residence, and hopefully we'll have the case wrapped up soon."

"Good work, but make sure all your T's are crossed so we get a solid, clean conviction." Catherine reminded.

Riley acknowledged Catherine's praise, but any joy found in solving the case was hollow. Images of the crime scene would forever haunt her. Neighbors complained about a baby's endless cries. When she arrived on scene a little cradle shook, while paramedic's tried to render aid and comfort to the tiny body within. Joey's tiny body convulsed, surrendered, and then came back to life. Riley knew Joey would never be brand new, he'd never walk or talk, but at least she'd give him a justice he'd never comprehend.

Riley glanced over at Nick. She understood his disgust, lament, and cynicism, she felt the same most days. Like Joey she'd never be brand new, like Nick the disgust, lament, and cynicism would gain a tighter grasp. Riley returned her attention to Catherine, mid-conversation.

"according to the mother, the adolescent male was beaten by his father. The adolescent male is currently receiving treatment at Desert Palms Hospital for multiple fractures and contusions. The damaging blow fractured his skull, resulting in inflammation to the brain, and a coma. The adolescent male is in the pediatric ICU unit, and is not expected to recover. The father fled the scene, and has not been seen or heard from since. An APB is out on him, and I will continue to work this case along with PD, but until the suspect rears his ugly head…we're at a stand still." Catherine explained with regret. Stokes wisely kept comments to himself, but his overloud sigh spoke volumes.

A knock at the door interrupted further discussion. Detective Vega entered, and spoke to Brass for a few moments. Catherine's thoughts turned to Zachery, the helpless boy dying alone in the ICU unit. Only hours earlier she heard his mother whisper an unforgivable wish…a wish her son was never born. In an odd way, Catherine was thankful the boy couldn't understand his mother's words. He wouldn't take it in, he wouldn't hang his chin…he'd never have to duck another blow. Soon Zachery would embrace the angels, his pain forever erased. Maybe Nick's cynicism and anger was well placed, maybe all their anger was well placed.

Detective Vega exited the room, and Brass nodded for Willows to continue. With dread she picked up the last file, the worst case in the stack. Catherine turned to Nick, and asked for an update.

Stokes read off the facts of the case, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Taylee Wareman; 10 years of age; body found hanging from a tree in the rear yard of a residential home at 6612 Desert Mist Lane, Henderson. Initial cause of death was strangulation, but further examination deemed the death suspicious. Doc has the results of the autopsy."

Al Robbins began: "As Nick said, our initial cause of death was strangulation, possible suicide, but when David and I examined the body, we found evidence of long term sexual abuse. I documented extensive scaring to the pelvic region, and vaginal cavity. Petechial hemorrhaging was evident at the scene, and we assumed it was due to strangulation. But, given our other findings…I have David examining the body again. We took vaginal swabs for DNA comparison, and drew blood and hair samples for tox and trace analysis. That's all we have so far."

Nick wearily continued: "With the autopsy evidence we're in the process of securing warrants to search the house further, and we're bringing the parents in for questioning. Ya'll know how this case turns out? Taylee was daddy's little secret."

Brass turned a deaf ear to Nick's comments, understood his disgust, but interjected his findings. "Here's what we know about the family: the father and mother moved to Vegas about a year ago looking for work. Taylee was an only child, no other family in the area. The child was home schooled, and according to neighbors the family kept to themselves. Our suspect pool grew smaller at this point, which is good for us. The neighbor at 6614 Desert Mist said she heard screams from time to time, but didn't think much of it. She said…and I quote…kids are spoiled these days, who knows what their screaming about. I think we know what Taylee was screaming about."

Nick's stomach churned at the thought of Taylee's pain, and the ongoing abuse. "We know who did this. Why can't we cut to the chase, get it over with? Give me five minutes alone with him. The fucking bastard will tell us what he did!"

"Nick! I know you're anger, we all are, but you can't let emotions cloud your work. You have a job to do, evidence to follow, that's what we do and you know it." Catherine vociferated at Nick.

Nick shook his head back and forth: "Is that the speech they hand out to every Supervisor Catherine? Cause I've heard it before. Ya'll can pretend the kids who died are just another case, but I can't."

Nick picked up four case files, held them in the air for moment…then slapped them on the table. "These four kids deserved better, they didn't have to die. You want me to turn off my emotions? I can't. I'll follow the fucking evidence. I'll do my job. But, don't you dare ask me to stop feeling."

"I'm not asking anyone to stop empathizing with the victims, but you can't let empathy interfere with the job." Catherine replied.

Nick picked up Taylee's file, opened it to the autopsy photos, and shoved it in front of Catherine. "You want me to ignore this? Have empathy, but not too much…shut it off, just do the job. You want me to not see the scars, the bruising, how he tore her apart? Do you really want me to ignore the fact this ten year old child saw no other way out than suicide? Damn Cath, I've seen it all over the years, been a victim more than once myself, but if this case doesn't set me off…what will?"

The room fell silent as the gathered group contemplated Nick's brash comments. Greg, Riley, and Ray understood Nick's outrage and frustration, they were experiencing the same. Catherine, Jim and Al saw too many heinous crime scenes, witnessed too many young victims, to not understand.

The incessant tick of the clock on the wall abraded everyone's nerves, a sad reminder of how short their victim's lives were. Seconds became minutes, until finally Catherine looked up, and addressed Nick and the others.

"Nick you're right to be anger, and I didn't mean to dismiss you. All of you have a right to be anger. Children shouldn't die because of carelessness, neglect, abuse…they shouldn't die…but we have an obligation to solve their homicides. I know sometimes I sound callous, but understand I have to detach myself, or otherwise I'd become my worst enemy." Catherine said knowingly.

The group turned within themselves in silent contemplation, they walked a mile in each others shoes, and quietly waited for someone to say something…anything.

Nick gave an almost inaudible huff, and quietly began: "God wrote Ten Commandments, right?" The other CSI's shook their heads yes, but given Nick's disposition, didn't comment further.

Stokes continued: "God told us Thou shall not steal…Thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain... Thou shalt not kill …Honor thy father and mother. He even told us not to covet our neighbor's oxen, but God overlooked a commandment…the Eleventh Commandment…Honor thy children…Honor thy children…Thou shalt not cause thy children pain. Why didn't He tell us that? Why didn't God include the children?"

Everyone in the room remained mute, each reflecting on their cases, and belief systems. No easy answer came to the forefront. God and Justice were never easy partners. Sure the CSI's could have had a long theological discussion on the word of God, the Bible, the Quran, and dozens of other faiths, the misinterpretation and representation. All were well versed and intelligent, but little purpose it served. Children were dead, they would never see another day, never learn, never grow, never change the world.

No one commented, no one had an answer, they gathered their respective case files, gave each other a nod, and left the room. Nick sat in the now empty conference room and questioned the heavens above: "I'm trying God, I'm trying to make right of wrong, but no one will give me answers. Ya gotta help me Lord. I can't make sense of it anymore. Why did you stop at Ten Commandments? Why didn't ya include the children? Why?

The cold, stark silence of the room yielded no answers. Stokes sighed in remorse, he wanted to give up, but the voices of lost children urged him forward. Slowly, he dragged his weary, battle torn body erect. Nick looked up to the heavens, and said to no one: "God may have forgotten you; forgot the eleventh commandment, but I didn't. I'll solve this case and the next, and I'll follow the commandment God forgot…Honor Thy Children.

**Afterthoughts: This story was co-wtitten with DPK as a challenge within a challenge. We each wrote a paragraph, and let the story come to fruition...for better or worse. It should be noted the song choice is morose, and because it is a song fic, the main character is in a dark, unforgiving, bottomless place. He's questioning everything at this point, and speaks out of normal character. **

**That being said...DPK and I have a friend working for Children Services. Often we've heard her speak out of turn, out of her normal, cheerful self, after a trying week. We thought it only human the main character in this story fall into a similar type of dispair, anger and grief pushing in on all sides, and talking out of turn. **

**The main character needed to lose grip, blow off steam, vent so to speak...doubt everything. No human works in this type of job without losing it at some point. If the main character is to be believable, to be human, then they have flaws. **

**Understandably, everyone likes to see their hero's as invincible, but in reality every hero has flaws, follies, and failures. Through failure...intelligence is gained. **

**DPK and I thought an explanation was is order for this story. It seemed to be misunderstood previously, possibly taken out of context, and the story deserved an explanation. That's all folks. Thanks for reading. **


End file.
